


When the Steadfast Fight

by bronwe_iris



Category: Jeepers Creepers
Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort, brother/sister fluff (no incest)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:52:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2129124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bronwe_iris/pseuds/bronwe_iris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate ending to Jeepers Creepers: The Creepers flies off with Darry, but Trish isn't about to just sit and let Jezelle's vision come true. She's going after her brother and she's going to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WOO! Let's get some Jeepers Creepers stuff on this site!

"You let him go!"

But Trish's scream is ignored. The creature spreads its wings and Darry's body tenses, his grip still clawing at the grotesque arm wrapped around his neck. The creature lunges backwards, twisting his body around as he and Darry smash through the large window behind them. Trish's scream is lost amongst the shattering glass and flapping of the powerful wings.

For a moment she's frozen in shock. Then she turns and bolts from the room, shoving aside flabbergasted police officers and skidding over the window shards. Tears blind her vision as she races down the building's stairs and through the dark hallway. She slams the police station's front doors open and continues to run, her steps echoing on the sidewalk. Her eyes never leave the sky, never waver from the form of the creature flying above her, her brother in its arms. She cannot hear Darry screaming; she wonders if he even is. Maybe he's too much in shock, or maybe he's still trying to be a stupid hero. Like when he had insisted on going back to that tunnel by the church in the first place. If only she had forced him to get back in the car and just drive…

The sidewalk runs beneath a looming tunnel of arched trees. Her view of the sky is obscured, and fresh panic at this forces her to move faster. She makes it into the open again, and stumbles to a stop.

The creature – and Darry – are gone. The sky is empty, it's darkness decorated only by the distant moon and clouds. She spins around, scanning every inch of the sky; nothing.

"Darry!" she screams. Tears stream down her cheeks, and a sob escapes her as she again shouts her brother's name. " _DARRY!_ " But there is no sign of him, or the creature. She is completely alone. Her breath comes in shaky gasps; she had failed Darry. She had failed to protect her little brother.

_I hear it playing. While one of you is screaming – screaming down in the dark somewhere._

"Darry…"

"Miss Jenner!"

Trish jumps at the sudden voice, and jerks around to see five cops running towards her. The one leading the group skids to a stop before her, scanning the surrounding area frantically. "You shouldn't have run off…are you alright?"

Trish vaguely registers the name stitched onto his jacket –  _Dep. Weise_  – before nodding dully at him. "My brother…" she whispers brokenly. Then she glares up at him with a sudden rage. "You!" she cries out, slamming a small fist into his chest. He stumbles back a step, unharmed, but surprised nonetheless. "You were supposed to  _protect_ him! You said you would protect us –protect Darry!" She's sobbing now, her fists striking Deputy Weise with every accusation. "And you all just  _stood there_. Stood there while that  _thing_ took off with Darry! You useless bastards!"

Weise grabs Trish's wrists, holding them in the air where she had been swinging them furiously. "Patricia!" he says sternly. Trish stops, staring at him; her crying has ceased, but her face shines with the tear streaks left there. "You need to calm down. We're not going to abandon Darry; we're going after him."

Trish stares at Weise, tears still brimming her reddened eyes. "What?" she chokes.

"We're going after him," Weise repeats.

"How?" Trish asks weakly. "We don't know where they went. The church…it burnt down."

"We'll have some men check the church, just in case," Weise says. "The rest of us will search for Darry elsewhere. Now  _think_. Where else could they have gone? Is there any other place you can think of that the creature would have gone to?"

Trish creases her brow as she rakes her mind for any possible answer. "I…I don't know," she admits. " _I don't know_." The phrase is obscured by a panicked sob the second time it's said. She stops and her body stiffens as a sudden idea comes to her. "Jezelle," she says.

"What?" Weise says.

" _Jezelle_ ," Trish repeats. "She had those visions – of us and Darry. Of one of us screaming in the dark. Of…Darry screaming in the dark. She knows where that thing had taken him!" She pushes past the deputy and runs back towards the police station, not bothering to see if Weise or the other cops follow her.

She bursts through the doors of the station and skids to a stop. The lights are back on – the ones that work anyway. A lot of them are smashed, or completely burnt out. But it's bright enough. Contrary to the scene of chaos Trish was expecting, the atmosphere is surprisingly calm in the station. A few policeman walk about, talking to each other in low voices as they examine rooms and check to see what other damage had been inflicted on the station. Sergeant Tubbs stands beside the front desk, speaking into the attached phone gravely. It pisses Trish off. Her brother had just been captured by that demon, and none of the policemen looked concerned by it at all. Maybe there was an air of defeat, of mourning, in the station, but nothing close to a frantic search being started.

At the end of the hallway is Jezelle. She looks badly shaken, and her eyes dart about the station wildly, like a frightened animal. She is carefully making her way to the front entrance, but freezes upon seeing Trish heading towards her.

"Jezelle!" Trish exclaims, hurrying forward.

Jezelle looks about her awkwardly, as though searching for an escape.

"Jezelle!" Trish stops before the woman, panting slightly. Weise comes up behind her, two cops following closely. "Jezelle please, I need your help."

"I've interfered too much already," the woman said nervously, rubbing her arms in apprehension. "I shouldn't have come – I made everything worse. I've got to go."

"Jezelle,  _please_ ," Trish says. She puts her hands on Jezelle's shoulders, forcing the woman to look at her. "It took Darry."

A hint of sorrow cuts through the nervousness clouding Jezelle's face. "I know, honey. And I'm sorry. I did everything I could to help you."

"No," Trish says sternly. "No, you have not. You know more than what you were telling us before. What did you see in those visions?"

Jezelle wrings her hands, glancing about her frantically. "I can't…I can't…"she mutters.

" _Jezelle_!" Trish gives Jezelle a hard shake so the woman's head snaps back to look at Trish. "This is my  _brother_. I have to find him. I'll ask again:  _what did you see?_  There has to be something in those visions that will tell us where Darry is."

"It's not right…not right what it does to that boy…" Jezelle doesn't even seem to be talking to Trish anymore. She's staring right past her, gazing at the double doors at the end of the hallway.

Trish shakes the woman again. "What? What does it do?"

Jezelle gives Trish a strange look. "Haven't you figured it out yet?" she whispers. " _Jeepers creepers, where'd you get those peepers? Where'd you get those eyes?_ " Trish stares at Jezelle in confusion and Jezelle grits her teeth, clearly not wanting to continue. "It needs to eat us to keep itself alive," she explains, her tone similar to that of a teacher who is tired of having to tell a student something over and over. "It needs…parts of us."

It takes a second, and then Trish's eyes widen in horror. "His eyes?" she whispers. "It needs….Darry's eyes?" Her hands slowly slip away from Jezelle's shoulders and she takes a shaky step backwards. "You – you saw it. You saw it take Darry's eyes.  _Darry screaming in the dark…_ " Tears spring to her eyes, but the look in them is fierce. "No. No, it's not going to happen.  _Where is it, Jezelle?_  Where did it take Darry?"

"I don't…I don't know…"

"Damn it Jezelle,  _think!_ " Trish steps towards Jezelle viciously, but a warning gesture from Weise keeps her from grabbing the woman again. "Tell me everything you know! Everything you saw in that vision!"

"I can't see everything in them!" Jezelle exclaims. "I can only see pieces of them – I told you that! Fragments…" she shudders. "But enough. I saw enough."

"Then tell me!"

"I…I don't…they were in a room." Jezelle closes her eyes momentarily, grimacing at the memory of the vision. "It looked like it might have been underground. It was damp, and dark there. I…I'm not sure what else could be of help…it looked like they were in a boiler room of some kind? An old one, and definitely unused."

Trish looks at Weise. "Does that help at all? Can you think of any place?"

Weise frowns, thinking. "Well…there was an old meat factory that was in use until about ten years ago or so. An accident happened there, I don't know, the details were covered up pretty heavily. It was really old – built in the early fifties, I believe. It had been run by a boiler room. It's quite far from here, but we could probably make it in under half an hour if we hurried."

"You sure that's right place?" Trish asks him.

"I'm not sure of anything, but it's the only lead I can think of," Weise says gravely.

"Fine," Trish said. "Let's go." She and Weise turn away and begin walking towards the station's doors.

"You won't make it in time."

They stop, and turn to look back at Jezelle, who is watching them with wide eyes. "You should not go, Patricia. What you will find…"

Trish sets her jaw. "I will make it in time," she says venomously. "Darry is not going to die." Then she turns away and shoves the station's doors open, stalking off into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Slight torture in this chapter. And nudity, though the nudity is not sexual. If you've seen the movie, you know how the Creeper works when picking out his victims. He's not into Darry in any sexual way – it's just a predator reveling in his prey he caught.

Trish's final scream echoes in Darry's ears as the creature smashes through the police station window and soars up into the night. As the ground rapidly pulls away, Darry's first instinct is to clutch to whatever he can to keep himself from falling. But the only thing there is the body of the creature that is currently holding him in a choking, vice-like grip. Darry recoils from the clammy touch, trying to twist away, though he knows full-well what would happen if he were to loosen the creature's grip. While the logical part of his brain is screaming to hang on, the other, more frantic and emotional part, is urging him to do it; whatever the creature has planned for him will be far worse than a quick death from falling, Darry is sure of that.

He desperately scratches and pulls at the arms wrapped around his neck and torso; it does nothing to the thick, almost scaly skin. The creature doesn't even try to stop Darry, seemingly undisturbed by the boy's attempts to escape. But as Darry releases his grip on the arms to try and pry them away, the arm wrapped around his throat tightens; either to hold Darry up, or as a warning, Darry doesn't know. But soon he's gasping for air, and black spots spark in his vision. He immediately stops clawing at the arms and returns his grip on them. It would do no good if he were to black out, making it that much easier for the creature to take him to wherever it's planning.

With the cold air blasting across his face and the arms encircling him getting steadily tighter as they continue to rise in altitude, each minute they are flying is a torturous eternity to Darry. He has no sense of time as the creature carries him through the night, and has no idea how long they have been traveling before the creature finally starts to descend.

The creature's feet thud to the ground, its wings giving a final few flaps as it steadies itself. Darry, too winded and dazed by the flight, stumbles over his feet and would have fallen to the ground if not for the strong grip holding him up. Blinking heavily, Darry looks around them. They are in a small courtyard of some kind. In front of them is an old-looking building. From the state of it, Darry assumes it's been abandoned for some time now.

The creature approaches the double doors of the building, dragging Darry across the weed-infested ground. Now that they're no longer flying, Darry's senses finally return to him. He gives a sudden, hard jerk in the creature's grip, attempting to break the circle of arms around him. To Darry's surprise, he does manage to fling the creature to the side a few steps, though he's sure that that's due to surprise rather than strength. He is jerked along with the creature, but Darry can feel a slight loosening on the creature's grip as they stumble. Immediately, Darry throws himself backwards, slamming into the creature's chest. The grip on his neck loosens. Using every bit of strength he has, Darry pulls at the arms and drops to the ground, slipping out from beneath the loop of arms. He…he's  _free_. Shock courses through him at his success, but he doesn't pause to revel in it and instead propels himself forward, away from the creature.

He doesn't even get three feet before a sharp blow is delivered to the side of his head. He sprawls to the ground with a pained cry, striking his shoulder on the cold dirt and sliding a foot or so before rolling onto his side. Wheezing, he tilts his head up and watches as the creature stalks towards him, fury etched into its wretched skin. Bending down, the creature wraps an enormous hand around Darry's throat and uses the grip to lift the boy off of the ground. Darry chokes and claws desperately at the hand, but the creature ignores Darry's struggling and begins walking towards the building's doors, dragging the boy beside him.

The doors slam open and they descend a nearby set of stairs. A dimly lit hallway waits at the bottom of the stairs and the creature follows it into a rather large room. It's so dim Darry can hardly make anything out, but the creature moves fluently and without caution.

The creature suddenly throws Darry unceremoniously to the floor. The back of Darry's head smacks against the cement and stars flash in front of his vision. He groans, pain shooting through his head as he coughs violently. Strong hands seize him and he feels his body lifted into the air and slammed onto a cold, smooth surface. Before Darry can command his body to try and move, he feels a leather strap being secured around his left wrist. Immediately he starts flailing about frantically, trying to tug himself away from both the restraint and from the creature looming over him. The creature strikes Darry across the face and the boy's head snaps sharply to the side. Dazed, Darry's can only gasp for breath as the creature ties his remaining wrist and ankles down.

Darry blinks and tries to focus his hazy vision to gather his surroundings. He's panting hard, desperately trying to draw in the muggy air but unable to fully do so in his panic. It looks like they're in a basement of some kind – an engine room maybe. It's hard to see, tied down as tightly as he is. The surface he's tied to is metal; he can feel the edges of it with his feet and his hands, and wonders if he's on some sort of old-fashioned operation table. That idea only worsens his fear.

He feels a sudden weight on his right foot and yelps in alarm. His shoe and sock are roughly pulled off, and a second later the ones on his left foot are too. The dull thuds of the shoes being tossed to the ground echo loudly. A moment passes, and then the creature suddenly reappears at the edge of Darry's vision, holding a pair of rusty scissors. Its gaze travels up and down Darry's body, and Darry squirms uncomfortably, eyeing the scissors warily.

"What are you –" he begins tentatively. The creature does not look at him; it acts as though Darry had not spoken at all. Then it brings the scissors down to the edge of Darry's shirt in a swift motion, making Darry cry out in alarm. Ignoring Darry, the creature cuts upwards rapidly, and tears away what is left of Darry's shirt.

"No, don't –" Darry stutters, but the creature is already shredding his pants and jerks them away, along with his boxers. Darry gasps as the cold air hits his body and tries to pull in on himself to hide his nudity, but the straps holding him down are tight, and he can do nothing but turn his head away in embarrassment from the creature leering down on him.

"Please…please don't…" he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. His hands tighten into fists, straining uselessly against their bonds. He feels the creature shift closer and Darry's eyes shoot open; the creature is leaning over him, his face horribly close to Darry's. Darry cries out in terror and tries to move away, but there is no where to go. The creature…it's eyeing him hungrily. The look in his eyes – it's the look of something that has not eaten in a long time. The image of the "strippergram" cop's disembodied head flashes across Darry's mind. Well…eaten something he had truly been  _wanting_.

Then the creature starts sniffing. Its takes its time, taking long, deep sniffs of Darry's body, the expression on its face pure ecstasy. Again Darry tries to squirm away, though he knows he's going no where bound like this.

It feels like it goes on for hours, though whatever logic is left in Darry's mind is insisting it can't possibly have been that long. He had closed his eyes again, unable to watch the creature inspect his body so closely. So he jumps when he suddenly feels rough hands clamp down on his ankles, tugging at the restraints and loosening them. He eyes fly open and he stares as the creature tugs the leather straps off of his ankles and then moves to his wrists. The straps are not even completely pulled off before the creature grabs both of his wrists in one hand, and keeping them above Darry's head, uses the grip to harshly jerk the boy off of the table.

Darry does not have enough time to find his footing as his body rolls off of the table; he doesn't have to though, as the creature holds him almost completely off of the floor by his wrists, dragging him across the room. Darry's toes scrap against the cold cement as he tries to support his weight, but the effort is wasted and he has to settle for the pain of his wrists being forced to hold his entire body up. They stop, and Darry's hands are ripped away from each other. He then feels the shocking coldness of metal encase his left wrist, and then his right. Jerking his head up, he sees that he's being held upright by a pair of old shackles. His feet barely touch the ground, and he has to stand on the tips of his toes to try and hold any of his weight up by himself.

The creature circles him once, studying him as one would a fine art piece. It stops in front of Darry, staring into his face; Darry looks away, a horrible mixture of shame and fear pooling in him. The creature's hand whips out and grabs Darry's jaw, its claws digging into the boy's skin. Darry's head is jerked back to the front, but Darry keeps his eyes downcast. The creature gives the boy's head a hard shake and finally Darry relents, lifting his gaze to match the creature's. The creature stares into Darry's eyes intensely, gray-blue to brown. It takes its time, studying Darry's eyes with an obvious air of pride, as though satisfied that it had found the perfect pair.

Darry holds the creature's gaze, though he feels unwelcome tears start to well in his eyes. He's furious with himself the moment he feels them forming, but he can't help it; the humiliation, terror, and confusion of the whole situation has become overwhelmingly exhausting to Darry. The creature smiles upon seeing the unshed tears form, and for the first time since Darry was brought down to this room, he feels anger towards the creature. White hot and fast it strikes through him. And so he fights back the only way he can; he spits in the creature's face.

The creature jerks back with a hiss of fury. It stares at Darry coldly for a short second before backhanding the boy; the blow is so hard Darry's vision goes black for a few seconds, and a dull ringing echoes in his ears. By the time Darry is able to see again, the creature is already gone from his line of sight. He can hear it though, rustling through things behind Darry. The soft tap of something being set against a hard surface is heard, and then soft music fills the room.

" _I don't care what the weather man says, when the weatherman says it's raining…_ "

Darry feels as though his blood has turned to ice. It's the song. The song Jezelle warned them about – the one that's been haunting him and Trish all night.

The creature is still moving things about behind Darry. Darry tries to twist around to see what it's doing, but the simple task of holding himself up is so demanding that it's impossible. The noises stop, and then it's just the heavy footsteps of the creature as it walks over to Darry.

" _I don't care how the weather vane points, when the weather vane points to gloomy…it's got to be sunny to me when your eyes look into mine…_ "

A hand presses against the back of Darry's head, so sudden and without warning that Darry gasps at the contact. Then he feels something else press alongside the hand; it's cold, and sharp – a nail file? A knife? The object presses harder against the back of Darry's head and Darry twists against the shackles, a new wave of tears brimming in his eyes.

Hanging naked in an unknown place, at the mercy of a monster, completely helpless…it's too much. He thought he would be able to control himself, keep his composure – be strong, like his sister. But then that metal instrument presses deeper into his hair and breaks through his skin.

"NO!" he screams. "No," he says again, this time the word more of a whimper than a shout. "Please…please don't. Please…" he repeats the word over and over, his frantic mumbling bordering on sobbing. His face reddens in shame; begging? Begging like this? But he can't help it – after being terrorized for hours on end throughout the night, and finally captured like this, it's too much for him to handle. He can't do it.

" _Jeepers creepers, where'd ya get those peepers? Jeepers creepers, where'd ya get those eyes?_ "

The object begins to cut upwards.

And Darry screams.


	3. Chapter 3

The police cars could not drive to the meat factory fast enough for Trish. Even with the sirens going and the roads already practically empty, it still takes them a good twenty minutes to get to the abandoned site. The car Trish is in hasn't even pulled to a complete stop before she jumps out, ready to bolt towards the doors.

Deputy Weise immediately stops the car and gets out. "Miss Jenner, wait!"

Trish halts and turns in annoyance. "What?" she snaps.

"You cannot simply rush in –"

"My brother –"

"Will probably be killed instantly if that thing knows we're here," Weise says sternly. "If you want to save Darry, you must listen to me and obey my orders. You  _have_ to do what I say, understand?"

Trish glares at the policeman, her body nearly shaking with the desire to run. But she jerkily nods her head, her jaw tight.

"Good." Weise turns to address the officers standing by their parked cars, waiting for instructions. "Muñez, Thompson, and Brady – you come with Miss Jenner and me. Everyone else – block every entrance. If you see that thing, shoot it." The officers nod and all turn to find the entrances, save three men. They walk to Weise and Trish's side, guns ready. Weise looks at them grimly before glancing at Trish. "Let's go."

The doors they choose open up to a set of stairs leading downwards. Weise descends without hesitation, Trish following closely behind, with the three other policemen bringing up the rear. A dimly lit hallway awaits them at the bottom, looking damp and desolate in the low light. They start to walk down it, eyes straining to pick up any sign of movement.

"Wait," Weise says, holding up a hand. "Do you hear that?"

They all stop, listening. It's soft at first, but steadily picks up volume as the seconds go on.

"It's music…" one of the other officers – Muñez – mutters.

" _…when the weatherman says it's raining, you'll never hear me complaining. I'm certain the sun will shine…_ "

Icy horror washes through Trish. "It's the song…" she whispers.

"What?" Weise asks sharply.

"The song…it plays when that thing is near…" Trish's eyes widen. "Darry screaming in the dark, while that song plays…" Then she breaks into a run, pushing past Weise.

"Trish, wait!" he hisses, hurrying after her.

But Trish ignores him. She continues to run, past locked doors and dead-end turns, her ears straining to pin-point where the music is coming from.

Then a scream echoes down the hall.

Both Trish and Weise skid to a stop, horror on their faces as they glance at each other. "Darry?" Trish shouts.

The screaming picks up again, and this time it does not stop.

" _Darry!_ " Trish screams, running once again beside Weise. "Darry!" A set of double doors looms from the shadows on her right and she immediately turns, pushing them open and sprinting into the room. Weise and the other policemen follow her in.

It's a boiler room. The air is stuffy, and it's so dim that it's hard to make things out clearly. But there's enough to see across the room, where two figures are outlined in the little light there is.

Darry hangs from the ceiling, stripped completely naked. Behind him stands the monster they've been hunting for hours now, its hands held up to the back of Darry's head. Upon the five newcomers bursting into the room, the creature jerks away from the boy's head in surprise, pulling with it what looks to be like some sort of scalpel. The freeing of the object cuts off Darry's screams instantly; the boy utters a low moan, and then his head falls forward, his body going limp.

"Darry!" Trish shouts, starting to bolt across the room. But Weise holds her back as he and his three men aim their weapons at the creature.

"Back away from the boy," Weise orders.

Having recovered from the moment of surprise at the intrusion, the creature gives them a look that's some horrible mix of both a sneer and a smirk. Trish expects the creature to use Darry as a body shield again, or try to escape, even if it means leaving Darry behind. She does not expect it to suddenly drive the scalpel towards Darry's head.

But Weise seems to have. Trish has barely begun to scream before a shot rings out. The creature staggers back, its now wounded arm dropping the scalpel. It snarls viciously, and steps around Darry, the look in its eyes murderous. Weise shoots again, and manages to hit the creature in the side as it leaps away. With a screech of rage it lunges at the officers, its wings expanding despite the cramped confines of the room.

Weise and Trish throw themselves to the side, and the creature lands on one of the officers behind them instead. Immediately, the other two policemen and Weise start opening fire. The bullets do little to hurt the creature; already it has ripped apart the skin on the trapped officer's face and chest.

The creature leaps off of the still-twitching body of the policeman and lunges at Weise. Weise pulls up his gun and shoots just as the creature crashes into him, knocking both of them to the floor. Instantly the creature jerks back, roaring in both pain and fury from the new puncture hole visible in its wing. Weise squirms from beneath the creature's body, struggling to bring up his gun again at the odd angle his arms are pinned. The creature swing up a clawed arm, but it is shot to the side by Officer Muñez. He and the remaining officer – Brady – continue to open fire on the creature, making it hard for it to maintain its balance over Weise. The creature stumbles off of Weise to the left, colliding into the double doors. It tumbles into the hallway, where five new officers are running towards it from outside.

Muñez and Brady run into the hallway to join the other policemen and the double doors swing shut behind them. Shots continue to rain through the air, along with thuds of men being thrown and the screeches of rage from the monster. But the sounds gradually start to lesson as the creature is pushed further down the hallway, away from the boiler room.

Weise and Trish wait no longer. They run across the room to Darry's side, both reaching up to tug on the shackles holding the boy to the ceiling. Trish gives up after one yank and turns her head to look at Darry's face, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Darry," she sobs. "Darry, come on. We saved you. You're gonna be fine. Come on, Darry. We're getting you out of here." No response. "Darry… _Darry_ …" She presses a hand to the side of Darry's head, tangling her fingers in the thick hair to stroke her brother's scalp. But she immediately recoils, repulsion on her face. She glances at her fingers, which are now covered in blood. Horror in her eyes, she focuses her attention on the back of Darry's head; his hair is drenched in blood. The grotesque liquid continues to flow alarmingly fast, running down his neck in a thick river and snaking out along his back muscles in dark streams.

If Weise is shocked at the sight, he does not show it. His expression grim, he presses two fingers against Darry's neck, just below his jaw. A long second passes. And another.

"He's alive," Weise finally breathes in relief.

Trish's exhales shakily. She gently lays her right hand against Darry's head and strokes his temple with her thumb. "Darry," she chokes, her entire body trembling. "Darry, please wake up. Please say something." Nothing. He – and the entire room – are quiet. She blinks in confusion, suddenly realizing just  _how_ silent it is. "The song…" she mutters, glancing about her and Darry.

"I shut it off." Trish jumps as Weise rushes back to her and Darry's side; she hadn't even noticed he had walked away. Trish gives Weise a grateful look, but he focuses his attention on Darry's imprisoned wrists. He's holding a rusty key, which he swiftly brings up to the right shackle and inserts into the lock.

"Found it on the work table behind us, among all of these other…operating tools," he mutters as the shackle opens. He jerks forward to catch Darry as the boy's body slumps over. He holds the key out towards Trish. "Trish, here." She takes the key and hurriedly unlocks the left shackle. Darry falls from the ceiling like dead weight and Weise staggers slightly under the suddenness of it. But he quickly recovers and eases both himself and Darry to the floor. A low moan escapes Darry's lips as he is moved, and he shifts slightly, trying to resist the handling.

"Trish, take Darry."

Trish kneels on the floor beside Weise and helps adjust Darry so he is leaning against Trish, his face pressed into her shoulder. Weise crouches down in front of the siblings, inspecting the back of Darry's head.

"That bastard was cutting into the back of Darry's head," Weise says darkly. He squints, trying to see better. "He didn't get too far though, I think."

"Then why is he bleeding so much?"

"Head wounds usually bleed a lot more than wounds on other places of the body," Weise says. He digs into his jacket pocket and pulls out a handkerchief. He gently presses the cloth against the bleeding wound; upon contact Darry flinches horribly in Trish's arms. He moans and Trish's head snaps down to look at her brother.

"Darry?" she says weakly. "Dare, can you hear me?"

"…Trish?" the name is so soft and slurred that it's hard to make out. But Trish gives a loud sob at the sound, raising a hand to hover beside Darry's head; she hesitates, unsure where to touch him.

"Darry?"

Darry mumbles something incoherently and blinks heavily. He tries to tilt his head up, but he groans at the attempt and closes his eyes tightly, the pain on his face blatantly obvious. "Where'd you…" The words trail off and he grits his teeth, swallowing hard. He looks like he might throw up.

Tears trickling down her cheeks, Trish presses her forehead against the top of Darry's head, careful not to go near his wound. "It's okay now, Darry. You're safe."

Darry winces at the touch, but does not try to move away. "I'm so scared Trish…" he whispers, the words strung together sloppily in his haze. Tears drip from his eyes, streaking through the dirt smudged on his face.

"I know, Darry," Trish says. "I know. But I've got you now. You're okay.  _You're okay_." She wraps her arms around her brother as tightly as she dares, burying her face in the crook between Darry's neck and shoulder.

"We have to get him to a hospital," Weise says gently. Trish looks up at him; Darry keeps his face buried in Trish's chest. "We have to go. If my men can't hold that thing off, it could come back…"

Darry stiffens against Trish's body.

"I'll carry him," Weise says, taking off his jacket and draping it across Darry's shoulders. Darry flinches at the foreign contact, but Trish pulls the jacket securely around Darry's body.

"He's right, Dare," she says softly. "We need to get you out of here."

A moment passes, then Darry gives a tiny nod.

"Deputy Weise is going to help you, okay? He's a good man, you'll be alright." She starts to unwrap her arms from around her brother, but Darry grabs her wrist tightly. Trish is surprised he has any strength left for such a harsh grip.

"Trish…don't leave me," he whispers, terror etched into every syllable.

Trish forces herself to hold back tears; she's never heard her usually carefree brother sound like this before. "I'll be right beside you," she says, her words firm, determined. Reluctantly, Darry releases his grip.

"Here, take this," Weise pulls his gun from his belt and sets it on the ground beside Trish. Leaning forward, he gently pulls Darry out of Trish's arms. Darry's body tenses as strange hands handle him, but he does not resist. Weise settles Darry in his arms and begins to stand, adjusting the jacket to cover as much of the thin body as possible. Then Darry's eyes suddenly flutter droopily and his head falls against Weise's chest.

"Darry?" Trish grabs the gun and stands up, eyeing her brother worryingly.

"He just passed out," Weise says, looking at Darry's slack face. "Most likely from shock and exhaustion. It's probably for the best – I can't imagine how painful that wound must be, especially now that we're going to be moving him about."

The muffled sound of a crash seeps its way beneath the double doors. Weise and Trish glance at each other nervously. "Let's go," he says. They hurry across the room, Weise going a bit faster and rougher than he would have had Darry still been awake, and step into the hallway.

The hallway is empty, though distant shouts and gunshots can be heard further down in the opposite direction they had come in. They turn away from the noise and quickly make their way back to the stairs. Though still unconscious, Darry begins to shiver violently. Weise tightens his arms around the boy as they ascend the stairs.

By now rays of sunlight have begun to pour over the horizon and across the courtyard, touching Weise and Trish's feet as they hurry to Weise's police car. Trish yanks open the back door and slides in. Weise eases Darry's limp body onto the seat, adjusting him so he is lying on his side, his head cradled in Trish's lap.

"Here," Weise says, holding out the bloody handkerchief. "Press it against the wound. It'll have to do for now."

Trish nods and takes the offered cloth, gently pressing it over the still bleeding wound; Weise pulls a shock blanket from the car's trunk and drapes it over Darry. It's all they can do for now. Slamming the door shut, Weise gets into the driver's seat and pulls the car away from the meat factory. He picks up the radio microphone and begins speaking into it.

"Deputy Weise to Poho County station. We need an ambulance immediately. We're heading east on the 203, just outside of Poho County…"

/

Trish and Darry's parents are expected to arrive at Poho County Hopsital in about half an hour. Having already spoken to doctors, policemen, and her parents via numerous phone calls, Trish does not have any desire to see them or anyone else anytime soon. But then, she does not want to stay in Poho County any longer than necessary also. So she'll endure her parents' frantic questions and overbearing worry if only it means getting Darry away from this place.

Trish rubs her face with a sigh, bending forward slightly in her seat. She is sitting on an old metal chair that looks like it was made in the 1970's. Its cushions are thin and badly padded, and a large chunk is missing from the back cushion. Despite the numbness that's starting to set in from sitting in the uncomfortable chair for hours, she does not move to get up. She leans forward, elbows resting on knees and hands cupped over her mouth. Darry lies on the bed before her, his head tilted in her direction to lesson the pressure on the wound on the back of his head. He looks relaxed in sleep, and she's content simply watching his chest steadily rise and fall.

The cut the creature had made had been alarmingly deep. It was over three inches in length, and had required thirteen stitches. The scalpel the creature had used had scraped across the surface of Darry's skull, but fortunately had not broken through it.

Darry had woken up by the time they had reached the hospital, and the doctors kept him awake while they treated his wound, so they could determine whether he had any other head injuries besides the gash the creature had inflicted on him. Once they had finished, they gave him some anesthesia. He and Trish were left alone, but it was not long before he had fallen into a heavy sleep.

Trish reaches out, gently brushing away strands of Darry's dark hair from his face. From where she is sitting, she cannot see the stitching job or the area that the doctors had had to shave Darry's hair off surrounding the wound to do the task. Despite her exhaustion and the vague terror still lingering from the entire ordeal, she can't help but smirk slightly; she wonders what Darry will think about his new – yet temporary – bald patch.

The creature had gotten away. Three policemen had been killed in the struggle that ensued after they had burst in on it and Darry. And the body of one of the killed policeman had actually been carried off by the creature at the end of the fight. Guilt flickers in Trish as she remembers the muggy details Deputy Weise had relayed to her. Guilt from knowing that those men had been killed because they had gone after her bother. And even deeper guilt because, even though she's trying to deny the feeling, a part of her almost thinks it was worth it, if it meant Darry could be saved.

 _Three men_ died _._

_But Darry is alive because of that._

_One boy versus three men, who probably had families of their own…_

"…Trish?"

Trish's head snaps up to face the hospital bed. Darry's eyes are half-open, and he's watching her drowsily.

Shoving aside the conflicting thoughts, Trish scoots her chair closer, a small smile sliding onto her face. "Hey, Darry. How're you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess." He frowns slightly, as though trying to decide for himself whether that was the truth or not.

"You really scared me. I'm so glad you're alright now."

Darry hesitates, looking almost uncomfortable at that statement. "Yeah, me too." He glances about them. "What time is it?"

"A little after seven in the morning."

Darry brings a hand up to his eyes and rubs them slowly. He sighs and drops his hand, staring at the far wall of the room. Then returns his gaze to Trish. "Is it dead?"

Trish bites her lip. Darry waits for an answer, watching her with a deep seriousness and a shadow of apprehension.

"…no. No, it got away." She does not want to tell him that, but she knows that lying would be worse. Her brother hates being lied to, especially if Trish is the one doing the lying. Besides, she knows he'd find out eventually. And despite all of that, he plain just has a right to know.

Darry's face pales, but his grim expression does not change. He nods slightly. Trish notices he doesn't seem to be showing any pain concerning his head wound; she assumes the pain relief medication the doctors gave him is still working strong.

"Yeah. Yeah I figured it wouldn't be." Darry's frown deepens as he looks down at his bandaged wrists and left hand. A few seconds pass. Darry's lips are pressed tightly together, and the expression on his face is one of someone about to ask something they really don't want to know the answer to. "It's going to come back for me, isn't it? You heard what Jezelle said; it never stops once it finds something it wants."

"Jezelle doesn't know jack shit about anything," Trish snaps viciously. Thrown off by her sudden change in mood, Darry blinks at her in surprise. But Trish doesn't relax. Though her expression is fierce, fresh fear from Darry's words has sprung up inside her. Subconsciously, she had been thinking that very thought all night since Darry had been rescued. That the creature wasn't done with them. That it would be back, it would continue to hunt them – hunt Darry. But hearing it said out loud, and by Darry of all people, it's as if it had sealed their fate for good. That it really  _would_ come back. Trish grinds her teeth.  _That's not going to happen._ "Mom and Dad are going to be here soon, and then we're getting far away from this shithole of a place," she says. "That thing likes to stick around here; it won't follow us."  
"But –"

"And if it  _does_ try to follow us, we'll be ready for it. We have the police on our side; they've  _seen_ it, so we have validation now. Other police stations should be looking out for it. Dad has weapons too, but our house is so far away from here that it's never going to find us. It's  _not_ going to get you, Darry.  _I promise_."

Darry watches Trish with an expression both weary and disbelieving. But Trish returns his gaze with eyes so vehement in their determination that he does not bother to try and argue. He bites his lip and nods, his eyes flickering away from his sister's. Silence fills the gap between them.

"Thanks for coming after me, Trish," he finally whispers.

Trish shifts uncomfortably in her chair, her fear and anger melting away at hearing the broken voice giving gratitude. She hesitates, and then gets up and sits on the hospital bed, pressing the side of her body against Darry's. Darry looks at her strangely, but as she settles down he finds himself leaning into her warmth. Trish lays her head on Darry's shoulder; after a moment, Darry rests his head atop hers.

"Well, I wasn't about to face the entirety of spring break alone with mom and dad," Trish says. "What'd you expect me to do?"

Darry smiles at that. Trish slips her arm through Darry's and links their hands together.

"Holding hands, Trish?" Darry teases quietly. "It's been, what, a good ten years since you've voluntarily done that? You know, so your baby brother couldn't ruin your image?"

Trish nudges Darry's shoulder. "Shut up, brat. It's only till mom and dad get here, so enjoy it while you can."

"I'll try."

Trish smiles softly. And together they wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right now, this is the end of this story. Later on, if I feel like it (or have the motivation), I might continue it. We'll see. :P


End file.
